


The Benefits of Fanfiction (On Your Sex Life)

by Kenda1L



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Dirty Talk, Dom Keith (Voltron), Especially Keith, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gags, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Praise Kink, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safeword Use, Service Top Shiro, Sheith New Year Event, Shiro Breasts Boobily And Everyone Appreciates It, Sub Shiro (Voltron), Top Shiro (Voltron), body issues, just a bit, sub space, tiddies, tiddy fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 10:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenda1L/pseuds/Kenda1L
Summary: “People are writing fanfiction about my tiddies,” he blurts out, and immediately regrets it. He smacks a hand to his face, wincing when the metal fingers of the prosthetic bang his nose. He can’t believe he just said the word tiddies out loud. He is never going to recover.Keith snorts. “I know.”Shiro learns about fanfiction and the internet's obsession with tiddies. Specifically, his.





	The Benefits of Fanfiction (On Your Sex Life)

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Gee, I've never written smut before and I'm really nervous about it. Maybe I should start with something light.  
> Also Me: Go big or go home, bitch.
> 
> Thank you to Lola for the idea behind this fic. Written for the Sheith New Year event. This doesn't follow any of their prompts, but oh well. It's the thought that counts, right? FYI, this doc was named Gimme Dem Tiddies, if that gives you any idea about what lies ahead.

Shiro finds Pidge, Lance, and Veronica in the mess hall, heads bent over a data pad and giggling. “What’re you guys looking at?”

Lance yelps and nearly fumbles the data pad. Pidge takes it from him with a scowl. “Careful! Mom will kill me if I break another one.”

Shiro rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Pidge just waves him off. “So,” he gestures to the data pad, trying to shake off the awkwardness his arrival had created. “Something funny?”

Lance squeaks and turns the color of strawberries. “Nothing,” he says quickly, refusing to make eye contact. Shiro frowns and tilts his head as he takes a closer look at them. Pidge is blushing too, eyes shifted to the side and biting her lip to hold back laughter. Veronica, on the other hand, is definitely looking at him, but it’s not at his face. Her eyes appear to be locked directly onto his chest. Shiro is starting to get a bad feeling. He crosses his arms self-consciously, but that just makes Veronica’s eyes glaze over as her mouth drops open.

“Okay, _what_ is going on?” he asks. It seems to break a dam; Pidge bursts into helpless giggles, hands covering her mouth. Veronica joins in, while Lance drops his head to the table and bangs his forehead against it with a whimper. Shiro’s stomach turn and twists uncomfortably and the bad feeling gets worse. There’s always been a bit of a divide between him and the Paladins and MFEs, but this feels an awful lot like he’s being made fun of.

“Sorry, sorry,” Pidge gasps, then clears her throat, laughter dwindling under whatever expression must be on his face. “Sorry, we aren’t laughing at you, I swear, it’s just…” she muffles another bout of laughter, “did you know that people write Voltron fanfiction?”

Shiro frowns. “That’s. What?”

“I can’t be here for this,” Lance mutters, shoving back in his seat quickly. Shiro watches in bewilderment as he scurries out of the mess hall.

“What?” he repeats blankly. Pidge hands him the data pad. Shiro skims the words displayed on it, but it does nothing to abate his confusion. “So they’re...writing stories about us?”

“Technically, it’s for the show,” Pidge clarifies as he scrolls down.

“ _Some_ of it is for the show,” Veronica says, voice tight with barely held back amusement. She yelps and jerks, glaring at Pidge as she rubs her shin. “What? He wanted to know!” She turns back to him with a smirk. “Hey Shiro, have you ever heard about something called Real Person Fic?” And there’s that bad feeling again.

“No, but I’m guessing it’s exactly what it sounds like,” he says, resigned. Pidge groans out something that sounds like _whyyyyy_. Veronica’s smile turns devilish.

“Oh yeah, and let me tell you, the Captain Shirogane thirst is real.”

It’s then that Shiro’s eyes catch and stick on the word _tiddies_ and he realizes his day is about to get significantly worse. “Oh no,” he says with dawning horror.

It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back; Pidge and Veronica burst into hysterical laughter. Shiro’s face flares hot, regretting everything leading up to this cursed moment. “Oh yes,” Veronica manages. She clasps her hands under her chin and tries to straighten her face into something serious. “There are forums too. Entire threads dedicated to your chest.” She leans forward and widens her eyes. “The cup size discourse is quite divisive, but the general consensus is that dem tiddies be thicc.”

Shiro covers his face with one hand, wondering how bad it would be if he ejected himself from the Atlas right now. “I...I have to go. Now,” he stutters, and practically runs out of the mess hall.

He’s not quite fast enough to miss Veronica calling out after him, “Thicc tiddies, Shiro. Thicc!”

 

***

 

Shiro hesitates a moment before unbuttoning his uniform jacket and stripping off his shirt. He turns to the mirror to study himself. He’s always worked hard to keep his muscles strong and healthy, first to combat his disease and then to combat others. Now, he keeps in shape out of habit and because he likes how it makes him feel.

He’s not sure how he feels about it right now though.

He leans forward to peer at his chest. His pecs _are_ pretty defined, but so are his abs and shoulders. Are they really that much bigger than normal? He cups his hands over them speculatively and frowns as they fill his palms. _A perfect handful_ , his mind supplies in Matt’s starry, love struck voice. It’s a phrase he’d heard often enough in their pre-Kerberos days; Matt was, and still is, prone to crushes.

The door slides open behind him and he drops his hands quickly, though he doesn’t turn away from the mirror. Keith presses close behind him, a long line of warmth against his back as his hands wrap around his waist. “Hey baby,” Shiro says, twisting to give him a kiss.

“I thought I was the one supposed to be admiring your body,” Keith teases once they part. His hands slide slowly up Shiro’s torso, dancing over his abs before pausing over his pecs. It makes Shiro squirm and he turns in Keith’s arms quickly. He kisses him hard, just the way he likes, both as a distraction and because kissing Keith is always a pleasure. Keith chuckles against his lips when they come up for breath. “Someone’s eager.” Shiro kisses him again, digs his fingers into Keith’s hair to massage his scalp. Keith practically purrs and melts into him.

“Just missed you,” Shiro says. Keith has been extra busy lately with Blades business, so it’s not like he’s lying.

Keith smiles soft and sweet and leans up to nuzzle his nose against Shiro’s. “I missed you too.” He kisses him again and bites his lip gently as he wraps his arms around Shiro’s neck. “ _All_ of you.” He presses himself up against Shiro suggestively and, well, Shiro is always open to suggestion. He wraps his hands around Keith’s thighs and hauls him up to carry to the bed.

 

***

 

Everywhere he goes, Shiro feels eyes on him. He knows he’s being paranoid, but he can’t help it. Every time he talks to someone or leads a meeting, he can feel their stares. His uniform jacket feels too tight, like it’s pulling across his chest and highlighting his pecs. He feels itchy, skin oversensitive. He’s achingly aware of his nipples after giving into temptations of google. He hadn’t been able to find the original story Pidge had shown him, but only because sifting through the ridiculous amount of other stories for it was too overwhelming. He gives up after reading through about half a dozen, having seen enough. Discovering that his nipples might as well be a character all on their own is a profoundly strange experience. (To be fair, Keith’s legs also have main character status. He doesn’t mind reading about those.) He finds himself crossing his arms or holding his data pad in front of his chest self-consciously.

Keith notices something is wrong but he doesn’t push, knowing Shiro will come to him when he’s ready. Shiro loves him so much.

Even the other Paladins and MFEs notice, judging by their furtive looks. Pidge stops him in the hallway one night. “I’m sorry,” she says guiltily. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything.”

Shiro smiles at her weakly, trying to dredge up some semblance of dignity. “You didn’t do anything, Pidge. I’m fine, really.”

Pidge frowns uncertainly. “If it makes you feel any better, they write about me too. Not as much or as graphic as you and Keith, which is kind of insulting if you think about it, but - ”

“Ooh, are we talking about Shiro’s tiddies again?” Matt drapes himself over Pidge’s shoulder with a shit eating grin.

Shiro groans and drops his head into his hands. “Not you too.” Matt claps him on the back.

“Sorry buddy, but have you read any of it? It’s wild, man, top grade stuff. I’m talking really creative, you know? I’m straight and I’d still use it in a pinch.”

“Top on the list of things I never, ever wanted to know,” Pidge says in disgust. She bats at him until he falls off her shoulder, laughing.

“Seriously Shiro, you and Keith should read some of it, take notes.” Matt leans in and wiggles his eyebrows up and down lecherously. Shiro shoves him away with a hand to the face.

“Boundaries, Matt.” Matt just laughs and pats him condescendingly on the chest. Shiro swipes his hand away when he starts to grope. “I am leaving,” he says firmly, and does just that.

 

***

 

Things finally come to a head a week later when Keith pulls him into a supply closet on the way back from their weekly debriefing. He pushes him up against the door. “Hey,” Keith murmurs as he mouths at Shiro’s throat. Shiro hums and tilts his head back to give him more access.

“Hey.” He runs his hands up Keith’s back and then down to rest against the curve just above his ass. “You realize that we are adults and have a very comfortable bed we could be doing this on, right?”

“Mmn, too far.” Keith pulls aside his collar to suck a mark at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The wet warmth tingles against his throat. He shivers. “Not as fun.”

Shiro chuckles, but doesn’t stop him from unbuttoning the first few buttons of his jacket. “Not as much fun if the janitor walks in either,” he points out. Keith pulls back with an unimpressed look.

“Takashi. Are you _trying_ to cockblock yourself?” Shiro throws his head back and laughs. Keith jumps on the opportunity; the laugh quickly turns to a moan. Shiro wraps a hand around his jaw and pulls him up for a kiss, deep and filthy. He uses the other hand to grind Keith’s hips up against his. Keith breathes out a quiet “ _Fuck_ ,” as he pulls back to rest his forehead against Shiro’s. “I love you, you know that?”

Warmth bursts in Shiro’s chest and he can’t stop the smile taking over his face. No matter how often Keith says it, it still makes his heart speed up and butterflies take flight in his stomach. “I love you too, baby.”

Shiro kisses him again, softer this time. Keith rocks against him and pulls his jacket open a little more. He slides one hand in to cup against Shiro’s pec, brushing his thumb over his nipple.

Shiro freezes. He recovers quickly, but not fast enough. Keith pulls away with a concerned frown. “Okay, what is going on with you? I’ve tried to be patient but…”

Shiro flushes guiltily. He draws Keith’s hands up to his lips and kisses them gently. “It’s nothing, really.” Keith’s face shuts down. He looks away and draws back, but Shiro catches him before he gets too far. “Wait, I’m sorry. It’s just. It’s dumb, is all.”

“It’s not dumb if it’s been bothering you this badly. You’ve been acting weird all week.” Shiro forces a half smile because it’s all he can manage. He runs his hand through his hair, then drops it quickly when it pulls his shirt tight over his chest. Keith sighs. “Shiro.”

“People are writing fanfiction about my tiddies,” he blurts out, and immediately regrets it. He smacks a hand to his face, wincing when the metal fingers of the prosthetic bang his nose. He can’t believe he just said the word _tiddies_ out loud. He is never going to recover.

Keith snorts. “I know,” he says, nonplussed. Shiro stills, lets his hand drop enough that he can look at Keith over it. He has his arms crossed and he looks exasperated, but there’s also a hint of amusement in the curl of his lips.

“You what,” Shiro says flatly. Keith shakes his head with a smile and steps closer so he can curl his hands in Shiro’s jacket.

“I’ve known for a while, now,” he says with a shrug, like the hundreds of thousands of words of porn about him, about _them_ , is no big deal. He trails a finger over Shiro’s lips, then back down to rest on his chest, thumb rubbing firmly over his nipple. It sends sparks shooting directly to his dick. “They’re very creative. And appreciative. Which _I_ can appreciate.”

Shiro thinks back on the last month, and the increasingly _creative_ suggestions Keith has offered up in the bedroom lately. “You’ve been acting out their stories,” he says with dawning horror.” Keith raises an eyebrow.

“Are you complaining?” he asks archly and, well, no. He’s definitely not complaining. But still. He wilts back against the door, looking down at their shoes. He presses his hand against the one rubbing idly against his sternum. “This is really bothering you, isn’t it?”

He sighs heavily. “I told you it was stupid. It’s just kind of weird. Knowing that people are looking at me and thinking that stuff. About me. It’s hard to believe.” He smiles and attempts to lighten the mood. “About you? Absolutely. But me? I’m not…” _Anything special,_ he doesn’t finish, because the look on Keith’s face is foreboding enough. “Um,” he says weakly.

“You find it hard to believe people could look at you and want you?” Keith asks, voice dark. He pushes Shiro more firmly against the door. “That someone could look at your mouth and wonder what it’s like to kiss it? To have it wrapped around their dick?” He presses his thumb against Shiro’s mouth, hooking and pulling down until Shiro opens to let him in. Keith’s other hand drifts down, feather light. “That they could take one look at you in your flight suit and wonder what _this_ ,” he presses and Shiro lets out a harsh breath, “would feel like inside them?” The hand slides around to grip, bruisingly tight, at his ass, fingers pressing tantalizingly against the cleft through the fabric of his pants. Shiro sucks hard on Keith’s thumb to stop the whimper threatening to escape. “Or what it would feel like to be inside _you_?” Keith leans in until his breath blows hot against Shiro’s ear as he pulls his thumb from his mouth and trails it down to his chest. “Or what you’d look like with come all over your face after fucking _these_.” He pinches Shiro’s nipples mercilessly.

The pain and words burn through Shiro and go straight to his cock. He thunks his head back against the door harshly as he struggles not to come just from that. “Jesus, Keith,” he moans, knees going weak. Keith’s hands against his chest and knee between his thighs are all that are holding him up at this point. “Why…”

Keith lets go of his nipples, soothing them with small circles of his palms. “Because it drives me crazy how oblivious you are to the sheer number of people lusting over you. You’re gorgeous and amazing and I wish you saw what I and literally everyone else could see.”

The words hit him straight in the heart. He cups Keith’s face, runs one thumb over his cheek. “Thank you,” he says softly. Keith turns his head to kiss his palm. Then he pulls away and starts buttoning Shiro back up. Shiro makes a confused sound. His dick is hard and aching, and last he checked, getting redressed isn’t going to help with that.

“Relax, baby, I’m going to take care of you,” Keith says, amused. He finishes the last button and pats Shiro on the chest. “Just not here. What I have planned for you definitely deserves a bed.”

He can’t argue with that.

 

***

 

Keith practically throws Shiro on the bed when they get back to their room. He bounces with an _oomph_ but recovers quickly. He scoots to the edge, fully expecting a lap full of Keith. To his surprise, Keith stops a few steps away and stands in a wide-legged stance, hands on hips as he regards Shiro with narrowed eyes. Shiro shifts eagerly in anticipation; when Keith gets that look on his face, it can only mean good things.

The moment stretches until the tension is almost unbearable, but still Keith stays where he is. Shiro wants to say something, anything to break the moment and get things _going_ already. He’s already painfully hard in his pants, cock pressing painfully against his zipper. Every minor shift scrapes against him and sends shivers of pleasure-pain zinging through him.

He opens his mouth to say something, but Keith beats him to it. “Hands behind your back,” he says in a soft, firm voice. “Lean back on them.” Shiro does so, confused at first, but Keith’s reasons quickly become clear when the position pulls his jacket tight across his shoulders and chest. The effect is somewhat ruined by Shiro’s lack of bicep, but it does the trick. “Spread your legs.” Keith’s lips curl in approval as he obeys. He steps between his knees and cups his hands around Shiro’s neck, stroking the soft, vulnerable skin behind his ears soothingly. “Good boy.”

Shiro flushes with pleasure at the praise. He tilts his head up and is rewarded with a soft kiss that quickly turns filthy when Keith bites his lip and requests entrance. Shiro gives it to him willingly, letting Keith take control of the kiss as he presses his thumbs under Shiro’s jaw and guides him however he wants. His hands twitch and muscles tense with the strain of keeping them where they are instead of burying them in Keith’s hair like he wants. He whines into his mouth instead, hoping to spur him on.

Keith laughs; he knows all of Shiro’s tricks and manipulations by now, but humors him anyway. He pulls back and drops his hands to Shiro’s shoulders, then down to squeeze enticingly at his pecs. He undoes each jacket button with infuriating slowness until Shiro is clenching his fists and twitching his hips restlessly. “Patience yields focus,” Keith teases. Shiro bites his lip against a growl and forces himself to still instead. Complaining won’t get him what he wants. Keith smiles and rewards him by rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The feeling is muted through the layers of clothes, but it’s enough to get Shiro’s eyes fluttering. He tilts his head and arches his back, pressing his chest into Keith’s hands. “So fucking responsive,” Keith murmurs, more to himself than Shiro.

Keith finally gets to the last button, hands brushing tantalizingly against the front of his pants as he undoes it. He pulls the jacket off but leaves it pooled around his wrists rather than make Shiro move. He’s not so gentle as he tugs Shiro’s undershirt out of his pants. He bunches it up and holds it in front of Shiro’s mouth. “Open up.”

His mouth waters as he does as Keith asks, heart pounding. Keith pushes the fabric between his teeth. “Bite down, don’t let go,” he says, running a loving finger along the scar over his nose. “Understand?” Shiro nods eagerly. “And what do you do if you need me to stop?” The reminder isn’t strictly necessary since it’s not actually a gag and Shiro could easily drop it and safeword out, but he appreciates the thought anyway. He obediently taps his foot three times against Keith’s calf. Keith smiles and brushes Shiro’s bangs away from his forehead to place a kiss there. “Thank you.” Shiro closes his eyes and preens, melting under the warm adoration in Keith’s eyes.

Keith kicks off his boots and pulls his own jacket and belt off, leaving him in his slacks and undershirt. Shiro takes a moment to appreciate the breadth of his shoulders and trim hips, the mile long legs and strength in his arms. Keith notices his appreciative gaze and quirks his eyebrows with a smirk. Shiro flushes but doesn’t look away. He’s allowed to ogle his boyfriend. He waggles his own eyebrows suggestively and Keith rolls his eyes with a laugh. He scrapes his hair back from his face and ties it back with the hair tie he always wears around his wrist. The simple action sends lust thrumming through him like electricity. He bites down harder on his shirt; he loves it when Keith wears his hair back instead of hiding his beautiful face behind it.

Keith steps forward again and straddles Shiro’s lap, hands finding his chest again like magnets. “There’s a reason the internet is so crazy over these,” he says conversationally as he massages, pressing his fingers firmly into the muscles. The shirt barely muffles Shiro’s groan as Keith presses hard against one nipple. “They’re gorgeous. Perfect. Firm and supple,” he squeezes, “And your nipples are so pretty.”  Keith smiles crookedly as he traces the one he’d been playing with. “Not that they would know that. These are mine. That’s something only I get to know. Kind of like how sensitive they are.” His voice goes low and husky as he trails a finger down the dip between them. Shiro’s belly burns and tightens with desire. “Or how much you like having them sucked and bitten.” Then he bends down and latches onto one, sucking hard.

Shiro sees stars. The volume of his answering moan surprises even him and his hips buck up mindlessly. The movement jostles Keith. He draws back and fixes Shiro with a disapproving frown. “Did I say you could move?” Embarrassment and the desire to please twine together in Shiro’s stomach as he shakes his head minutely. “Are you going to do it again?” Another shake of his head. “I’m the one in charge of your pleasure now, not you. Understand?” Shiro nods desperately. Keith pats him condescendingly on the head, then threads his fingers into his bangs and scratches at his scalp with a pleased smile. “Good boy.”

Shiro squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed as Keith returns to his ministrations, licking and sucking and biting roughly. He switches to the other when Shiro’s whimpers take on a pained edge, skin over-sensitized by the onslaught. Even the cool air drying Keith’s spit is nearly too much. He’s never come just from having his nipples played with, but it’s starting to look like a real possibility. The ache in his arm behind him and the effort of keeping himself still are all that’s keeping him from flying over the edge. The only thought in his head is _don’t move, don’t move_. It’s his only responsibility, his prime directive. Then Keith grinds down on him and it’s all over. He convulses under him and comes with a muffled shout. His arm gives up the ghost and he flops back on the bed, spent.

Keith stares at him with wide, surprised eyes. “Did you just…?”

Shiro flushes and tenses with mortification. He closes his eyes, though he doesn’t let go of the shirt. He’d disobeyed. He’d moved. Come. Failed.

“Takashi. Hey, sweetheart, look at me.” Keith tugs at the fabric until he unclenches his jaw, then cups his face, massaging away the ache from biting too tightly. One thumb swipes under his eye. Wiping away a tear, Shiro realizes dully. He hadn’t noticed. “Baby, I need you to color for me.”

Shiro takes a few deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth as he stares at the ceiling, pulling his brain back together. Keith watches calmly, stroking his cheeks and massaging his scalp, letting him take the time he needs without having to be asked. Warmth suffuses his body; he relaxes into the soft bed. He loves this man so much.

“Green,” he says quietly, then frowns. “Maybe yellow. I’m not sure.” Keith nods and leans back so he can pull Shiro up enough to remove the jacket and shirt before moving his arms into a more comfortable position and laying him back down. He doesn’t move from his lap, even though the wet spot on the front of Shiro’s pants is probably soaking through. He’s grateful for the weight and pressure anchoring him to the moment.

“Okay, what’s going through your head?”

Shiro resists the urge to deflect, to say that it’s nothing or that he’s fine. Those aren’t answers that will make Keith happy. “I didn’t do what you said,” he finally admits in a small voice. Keith frowns, confused, then breathes in sharply when he understands.

“Oh no, baby, it’s okay. You’re okay. Better than okay, do you have any idea how hot that was?” He leans down and nuzzles at Shiro’s face, litters kisses over his cheeks and forehead and jaw before laying a light kiss against each eyelid. “You did so good for me, baby. So good,” he says against Shiro’s mouth.

The last of the tension seeps out of Shiro’s shoulders. Logically, he knows Keith isn’t mad, could never be mad at him for things they do in the bedroom, but it still eases something in him. He tilts his head up to receive the kiss Keith is offering. When he pulls back, it’s with a smile. “Okay, green then.” Keith sits up, eyes flitting over his face, assessing. “I’m okay, I promise.” To prove it, he sets his hand against the bulge in Keith’s pants and presses firmly. Keith’s gone soft during their conversation, but he lets a shaky breath out through his nose as Shiro massages him back to hardness. He drops his head for a second, chuckling.

“I believe you.” He withdraws just enough to strip off his clothes, efficient as always, before he pulls Shiro’s boots and socks off. Keith makes a small, surprised noise as he unbuttons Shiro's come stained pants. “No underwear?” he asks, eyes dilated.

Shiro shrugs but can’t quite keep eye contact. “I wanted to surprise you,” he tries, more of a question than a statement.

Keith snorts. “Right,” he drawls. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re _too busy_ to do laundry.” Shiro says nothing and ignores the air quotes pointedly, but his blush is answer enough. Keith shakes his head as he pulls Shiro’s pants the rest of the way off. “If anyone knew what a disaster you actually are, they’d probably start to question their reality.” He sounds exasperated, but his eyes are warm and full of mirth. Shiro sits up abruptly and grabs him. He drags him, giggling and squirming, down onto the bed with him. He rolls so he’s on top, pressing Keith into the mattress.

“Good thing you’re there to protect their poor brains,” he teases.

Keith rolls his eyes;  the world flips and Shiro suddenly finds himself on his back with Keith sitting on his chest. “Hey Shiro,” he says casually, “can I fuck your tits?”

Shiro chokes and goes hot. He’s pretty sure he’s sporting a full body flush at this point and his cock, previously out for the count, perks up. He squeezes his eyes shut and groans, gripping Keith’s thighs tight. “ _Keith_ , you can’t just _say_ things like that.”

Keith cocks his head. “Why not?” he asks in his usual pragmatic way. His eyes are glittering with mischief. “The best way to get what you want is to ask for it.” He gives Shiro a pointed look. “So?”

Shiro thinks about it. The idea makes him feel weird, but not necessarily in a bad way. “We can try,” he decides. The way Keith’s eyes darken and his grin turns wicked kills off the last of his doubt. “So how do we do this?”

Keith twists to reach for the nightstand drawer where they keep the lube. Shiro takes a moment to marvel at his flexibility. Also, to ogle his ass. It’s a very nice ass, he decides as he guides his Altean arm to take a firm handful. Keith shudders and stills when Shiro presses an appreciative thumb to rub against his hole. His head drops between his shoulders and he makes a small sound. “Stop distracting me,” he complains, but he doesn’t sound too upset as he rocks back against the pressure. Shiro removes his hand all the same, smiling innocently as Keith throws him a disgruntled look over his shoulder. He drops the bottle of lube next to Shiro’s head and kisses him hard. Shiro pushes up into it, needy and desperate.

Keith pulls away all too soon. Shiro chases after his lips but flops back down when Keith ignores him for the bottle of lube. He warms some up in his hand and then spreads it over Shiro’s chest. He resists the urge to squirm; Keith’s hands are warm and feel good as they massage him, but the lube feels thick, too slick and nothing like massage oil. Still, the dual sensations combined with anticipation makes goosebumps rise over his entire body. His toes curl and he shifts, then stills suddenly. He looks to Keith for guidance.

“You can move,” Keith assures him, pausing to hiss as he slicks up his own cock. “But don’t touch yourself.” He flicks his eyes up to Shiro’s and gives him a small smile. “I want you to fuck me after this.”

Keith is trying to kill him. He’s going to die. Again. Luckily, Keith is very skilled in reviving him. Shiro grabs him by the hips and roughly pulls him higher on his chest. He gives him his cockiest look. “Better get started, then.”

Keith throws his head back with a full-bellied laugh but obligingly scoots a little further forward, settling with his knees just under Shiro’s armpits. He pries Shiro’s hands from his hips and sets one on each side of Shiro’s pecs. “Push,” he says firmly. “Be good and give me a nice tight place to fuck.”

Shiro bites back a moan and thunks his head back onto the bed. He has to be red as a beet by now, but he’s never been so turned on. He bends his knees and lets them fall open as he does what Keith asks, pressing his pecs together as tightly as he can. They can’t get around the fact that he’s not a woman with actual breasts, nor that his pecs are comprised of muscle and not malleable fat, but he’s still able to make a decent sized valley for Keith to slide his cock into. They both moan when he thrusts. Keith drops his chin to his chest, sliding back and forth. He presses a hand down over his dick, pressing it more firmly between Shiro’s pecs and creating a sheath for him to thrust into.

“God,” he says on a breathless whisper. “You’re so… so fucking… baby, I…” He’s losing coherence. It pleases Shiro, knowing Keith takes such pleasure in his body. He feels cherished, beautiful, even as the squelch of lube and silky rub of Keith’s cock make him feel filthy and debauched. He tilts his hips up, desperate for any kind of relief for his poor, neglected cock but the open air offers none. He whimpers, frustrated; he needs something more, needs…

He tilts his head up to look at Keith, maybe request a kiss, but instead he’s confronted with the sight of his cock peeking out from the tunnel they’d created and gets a better idea. He cranes his neck and opens his mouth on the next forward thrust. He’s rewarded with the head of Keith’s dick heavy and satisfying on his tongue. He swirls his tongue along the sensitive underside and sucks.

Keith doubles over and _keens_ , nearly knocking his head against Shiro’s. He pants and curses, popping the head in and out of Shiro’s mouth in short, fast strokes. Shiro presses his pecs together a little tighter and focuses on sucking and teasing the slit with his tongue. His neck is starting to ache from the awkward position, but it’s worth it when Keith sobs, threading his fingers through Shiro’s hair and tugging him a little closer. “Baby, your mouth, your tits, I…” he speeds up, trembles and shudders and moans, “Takashi,” as he comes. The hand in Shiro’s hair pulls him off and he feels heat hit his throat and underside of his jaw. A little even lands on his open mouth. He stares at the ceiling in shock, brain fritzing out as come collects in the hollow of his throat. He feels dirty, used, and so fucking horny he might die if he doesn’t get some sort of stimulation.

It takes him a moment to realize that Keith is cooing and shushing him, that the whines and whimpers he’s hearing are coming from _him_. “Shh, shh, sweetheart, you did perfect, so good for me, I love you, you’re so amazing -”

“Love you too,” he manages, interrupting Keith’s babbling. Keith sighs in relief and kisses him, pressing close. Shiro lets him in when he presses his tongue tentatively to the seam of his lips. He licks the taste of himself out of Shiro’s mouth, then moves on to clean the stripes of come from his throat and jaw. He leaves kisses and gentle bites in their place.

“So beautiful like this, incredible,” Keith whispers against his skin. “You did so well for me, baby. Ready for your reward?” Shiro closes his eyes and nods, hearing the words without really processing, but the sweet tone of Keith’s voice still makes it through the overwhelming sea of need he’s floating in. Then something blindingly, shockingly warm and tight engulfs cock in one smooth movement and knocks the air right out of his lungs. He gasps like a fish out of water as he looks down and sees Keith fully impaled on him, ass flush to his skin. Some small, far away part of his brain realizes that the small rocking movements Keith had been making earlier must have been him preparing himself. The rest of him is blank, overwhelmed by how amazing Keith feels around him.

Shiro comes back to himself when Keith pats his cheek just hard enough to sting. “Still with me, sweetheart?”

“Oh,” he says, because it’s the only word his mind can supply at the moment. _Oh, oh oh,_ echoing in the chamber between his ears that once housed his brain until Keith fucked it out of him. “Oh.”

Keith laughs, clenching rhythmically around him with such perfect pressure that Shiro’s leg kicks involuntarily and he wheezes out a sound like he’s dying. “You know just how to make a man feel wanted,” Keith says fondly as he rises and lowers himself in tiny increments. It’s torture. It’s hell. It’s heaven and everything and Shiro never wants it to stop.

“Yeah,” he says, not sure if he’s replying or even what he might be replying to. He scrunches up his face. “Keith, I.”

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

Shiro opens his eyes. “You,” he says fiercely. He hooks his hands around Keith’s hips, trembling with the urge to force him to move, to do something, damn it. His fingers span the entire width of Keith’s waist and the sight of it sets Shiro’s blood on fire.

Keith’s mouth goes slack at the strength of Shiro’s response; his eyes go slit pupiled for a moment before he grins, displaying teeth a little too sharp to be human. “Then take me.”

The words break something in Shiro, and everything he’s been holding back floods forward. He bucks and flips them over without ever pulling out; Keith grunts as the air is knocked from his lungs by the force of his back hitting the bed, but he just wraps his arms and legs around Shiro like a koala and clings as he thrusts in.

Shiro sets a bruising pace, unable to control himself anymore. Holding back is not an option, but judging by Keith’s enthusiastic cries, he doesn’t mind the punishing force. Shiro feels his orgasm building low in his belly and spreading out to his fingers and toes and even his ears and nose as he buries his face in the crook of Keith’s neck, mouthing at the skin mindlessly. He just barely has the wherewithal to send his prosthetic arm between them to take Keith’s cock in hand.

Keith whines and twists, sensitive and overstimulated in the wake of his previous orgasm, but Shiro doesn’t stop. Keith loves being dragged through the pleasure-pain to the other side where orgasm waits and Shiro loves to give him what he wants. He speeds up, tilting his hips just right to make Keith shout, loud and uninhibited. He shakes apart underneath him and the tremors send Shiro over the edge as well.

They pant together in the aftermath. Shiro is pleasantly exhausted, light-headed and hazy as he gently pulls out, wary of Keith’s slightly pained hiss. The sound used to worry him, until Keith showed him just how much he enjoyed the post sex soreness. Now, it just makes him smile smugly. He flops onto the bed next to him, already half asleep. Keith shifts to get up. Shiro throws out a hand in an attempt to stop him; the sound that comes out of him is closer to a dog’s pitiful whine than anything an adult human should make but he can’t bring himself to care. Keith’s fingers run soothingly through his sweaty hair even as he makes an amused noise. “Hush, puppy. I’m just going to get something to clean us up with. I’ll be right back.”

Shiro cracks an eye open just a slit. “Bark,” he says flatly. Keith stops, halfway to standing, to stare at him.

“Did. Did you seriously just say that?” he asks incredulously. “Not woof, or arf, or, or awoo, just... _bark_.”

Shiro smiles sleepily at him. “Bark,” he agrees. Keith drops his head in his hand with a groan. “You are such a dork. I am never calling you that again.”

He gets up and moves toward the small en suite. “Growl,” Shiro calls out after him. “Howl, whine -” He gets a wet towel to the face. Sputtering, he pulls it off and glares at Keith. “Really?”

Keith shrugs and climbs back on the bed, taking it back from him. “Nuh uh, you deserved that, don’t deny it.”

He could, but it would take up too much energy so instead, he lets Keith run the warm washcloth over his chest and neck, then down to his groin, shivering as the air hits the wetness and pebbles his skin. Keith cleans himself off far more perfunctorily, then pulls the blanket up over them and snuggles into Shiro’s chest. “So, is there anything you want to talk about, with what we just did?”

It’s a standard question Keith asks every time they go outside the normal bounds of vanilla sex. Someday Shiro will ask where he learned the ins and outs of aftercare, but it’s not very important right now. Instead, he thinks back on the scene. He’d gone a bit too deep in the middle and they’ll probably have to talk about it later, but it’s also not the first or last time it will happen and isn’t worth trying to discuss when his brain is still sluggish and slow in the aftermath. “I liked it,” he finally says after a few minutes. “I don’t think I want to put it in the regular rotation, but. Yeah, it was nice. What about you?”

“Hmm, yeah,” Keith mumbles against him. Shiro shifts so he can look down at him. He’s firmly face planted in Shiro’s chest. Shiro narrows his eyes.

“You’re thinking about motorboating right now, aren’t you,” he says flatly.

Keith tilts his head up and rests his chin on Shiro’s sternum, looking way too innocent. “Of course not.” Shiro gives him a look that clearly says he doesn’t believe him, but doesn’t push. Keith sobers a little. “So, uh, about what started all this,” he says. Shiro suddenly remembers the stories, the looks, his discomfort with it all. “I don’t know that we could actually get people to stop writing stuff, but we could issue a statement that you would prefer they didn’t, and we can definitely tell everyone to shut up about it, or -” Shiro stops him with a finger to his mouth before he goes into full on crisis planning. Keith looks a little put out, but he still presses a kiss the tip of Shiro’s finger. Shiro brings it to his own mouth to kiss as well before pressing it to Keith’s lips again. It’s something he used to watch his parents do before they died, something Adam had tolerated but Keith adopted wholeheartedly. Just one of a million tiny details that make Shiro wonder how he’d gotten so lucky.

“It’s fine,” he says when he draws his finger away again. “I’d prefer if our friends and coworkers never mention it again and I’m not hurrying to read more of it, but I guess it’s kind of cool. And clearly you enjoy it.”

Keith shrugs with a smirk. “And you enjoy the results of my new reading material,” he teases, and okay, he has a valid point. “Do you at least understand now why people might enjoy your, uh, _assets_?” The last word is accompanied by a squeeze of his ass cheek. Shiro rolls his eyes and pulls Keith closer.

“I understand why you enjoy them,” he says. “I don’t really care what other people think of them.”

For a second, it looks like Keith might want to argue, but he can see when he decides to let it go. He settles back into Shiro’s arms, twining their legs together and getting comfortable. It’s too early to sleep, but a nap sounds really nice.

Shiro dozes off to the feel of Keith’s head pillowed against his chest, breathing slow and warm and perfect across his skin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr at [Voltrashed](https://voltrashed.tumblr.com), Twitter at [kenda1l1](https://twitter.com/kenda1l1) and Pillowfort at [kenda1l](https://www.pillowfort.io/kenda1l). The latter two don't have much up, but I'm working on it!
> 
> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
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